


Being alive

by frostysunflowers



Series: Tomorrow is another day [2]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Spoilers, Bittersweet, Cuddles galore, Domestic Avengers, Family Feels, Father-Daughter Relationship, Father-Son Relationship, Feels, Fix-It, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Irondad, Not Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Parent Tony Stark, Peter Parker Feels, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Precious Peter Parker, SO MUCH FLUFF, Sleepy Cuddles, Slice of Life, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark-centric, and lots of cheese, irondad irondad really soft and fluffy irondad, like ridiculous amounts, long fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-12
Updated: 2019-05-12
Packaged: 2020-03-02 06:52:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18805954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frostysunflowers/pseuds/frostysunflowers
Summary: It's a beautiful thing, this life we live.orAnother look into Tony's life during peacetime.orA continuation of Peace in Our Time.





	Being alive

**Author's Note:**

> Firstly, let me just say how utterly overwhelmed I am regarding the response to Peace in our Time-holy crap thank you to all those who read it!
> 
> So this is the continuation of that fic. I don't expect this to be half as popular but one can dream haha. I honestly have never experienced such significant heartache over the death of a fictional character until Tony; I've been devastated over many characters in my time and inconsolable over a few but this is just something else, almost feels personal somehow though I can't explain why. Sometimes the feelings overwhelm me (usually in very inconvenient places like my car or in the middle of work) and I don't think that's normal hahaha, so the only way I can try to heal my broken heart is by writing more of this fluffy mush that you're about to read, because we need it, or at least I know I do!
> 
> This is still written in somewhat of a snapshot form though some are significantly longer than others. I've had to go back to the previous fic and tweak a few details for continuity but it doesn't really matter in the grand scheme of things (mainly it was done to fit the time frame of the first piece in this involving Peter) so nothing needs to be reread beforehand. Most of these are still set within the first year or so after Tony wakes up but it's quite free to interpretation really - basically I'm focusing less on the finer details and more on everyone being happy and alive alright?? Good! It's also heavily Peter and Tony centric and doesn't have as much focus on everybody else as the previous fic did so I'm sorry if that's not what you're looking for, I just love them the most!
> 
> Not beta read so excuse the errors as there's probably many including jumbled tenses and missing words-soz. Enjoy!

 

 

The Tony Stark of before, the one with metal chasing its way into his heart, the one who danced through life with bravado and quick wit, the one who buried himself behind ground-breaking technology and cocky smiles, would never have even dared to imagine a life like this.

If somebody had told that Tony that all of this, a simple life, a domestic and (generally) quiet life, and all that came with it would one day be the very centre of his universe, he would have laughed in their face.

Yet here he is.

And it’s so much more than he ever dared to dream of.

 

********

 

Nebula flinches under his hand and he pauses.

''You okay there, Bluebell?''

She nods quickly but he can feel the tension practically pulsing through her.

He proceeds, exasperatingly slow, and can feel her frustration at his speed in the rigidness of her shoulders, but he’ll be damned if he causes her more pain than necessary.

It had taken a fair while to convince Nebula to let Tony have a look at the non-human parts of her. He hadn’t realised just how extensive her modifications were until she had allowed FRIDAY to scan her and it damn near broke his heart to wonder what she had been like before Thanos had ripped her to shreds.

''Nebs…'' he breathed as he had studied the hologram of information in front of him, found himself glaring sadly at the blatant misuse of cybernetic attachments and incorrect wires and butchered code that coursed through her. ''How…you must be in so much pain, Bluebell.''

Nebula had scowled at him but he knew there was no anger towards him there, just rage for the world, for the universe, for what had been done to her.

''Let me help?'' he had asked, nearly begged.

''I do not need to be fixed.''

''I don’t want to fix you,'' he told her, smiling all the while as her dark eyes studied him carefully. ''I want to help you, Nebs. What do you say?''

She trusts him, really trusts him, and it’s because of that trust that she is perched on the edge of a workbench with Tony’s hands buried under the plating of her robotic arm, twitching as he adjusts and fiddles and chatters idiotically away in an attempt to help her relax.

It’s a small step but it’s a start, and when he’s done and she bends her arm experimentally, looking up at him in surprise when there’s not even a single shot of discomfort, he grins widely at her, a gesture which she tentatively returns in the form of her small but disarmingly sweet smile.

 

********

 

Tony can’t help but find Peter ridiculously endearing.

Everything about the kid just screams cute. His big doe eyes, his bright smile, the way he ducks his head shyly when Tony praises him, his unfailing manners (‘for the last time kid call me Tony’) and the fact that he’s still clumsy despite his spider powers are just small parts of what makes Peter Parker utterly adorable.

And it’s this adorableness that makes it so hard for Tony to watch the kid give in to his self-doubt.

Tony knows the kid has always struggled with his insecurity and still hates himself for how he made Peter feel in the months after Germany, still has to shake himself out of the bad feelings that come with the memories.

They’ve come so far since then. So very far.

So of course it hurts to know that even after everything, Peter still doesn’t think that he’s good enough, doesn’t believe that he deserves to be where he is, doesn’t quite trust the love that Tony feels for him.

During the first couple of weeks , after the initial joy and relief and _holy shit we’re all here_ wears off ever so slightly, he sees Peter slowly but surely retreating into himself; notices the way he stands awkwardly around as though unsure of his place, the way he hangs back whenever Harley or Morgan are present and only properly engages when someone speaks to him, as though he’s waiting for permission to join in.

It’s easier when the there’s more people around, like Steve and Rhodey and Sam. Peter visibly relaxes in their company, as though the increase in numbers protects him somehow, allows him to be included, feel wanted, be a part of the whole thing.

When it’s a quiet day though, when there’s hardly anyone else around, Tony sees it.

He shuffles away when Tony praises Harley as they all work together on the guest house; granted, Harley is perhaps more used to the manual side of things than Peter, who is all about the chemistry and physics, but Peter still does just as good and Tony hates that the kid won’t let himself see it.

He watches the way Harley and Peter interact, both shy and tentative, which in itself is beyond adorable, but Tony can tell that with Peter it runs so much deeper than the normal feelings that come with making a new friend. It runs deep into the caverns of _not good enough_ and _I don’t belong_ and _I wish I was better._

Morgan adores Peter and Peter adores Morgan and Tony will never ever forget the sight of them huddled together above him as he came back to the world, has the image etched firmly into his heart and holds it close when the dark days get just a bit too shadowy. They play together happily, Peter more than wrapped around her little finger, but his smile always falters whenever he’s referred to as ‘big brother’ though he tries valiantly to keep it in place. Tony realises, after a few days of wondering, that the kid thinks that it doesn’t mean anything, like they’re just saying it for the sake of saying it, that he’s some sort of burden that must be appeased somehow.

Sometimes the kid forgets himself, forgets to feel awkward and doesn’t let his worries rule him. He jabbers enthusiastically at Tony and grins so brightly and looks so young and carefree that Tony just wants to hold him close and never let go. They’ll dance excitedly around each other amongst holograms of new ideas for suits and other goodies, eat midnight snacks sitting shoulder to shoulder on the kitchen floor, they’ll joke and playfully shove and Peter will tease and Tony will grumble good-naturedly and everything just feels good.

Then something will happen and Tony can never tell what, but Peter will deflate, shrink back and retreat as though coming to his senses. He’ll turn bright red or make awkward excuses or, in the most disheartening of moments, his eyes will fill with tears and he’ll scurry away as soon as he can do so without drawing attention to himself.

Once or twice, Tony catches Peter looking at him unsurely, the same expression he would wear during their first few encounters, as though waiting to be dismissed scornfully at any moment, and it makes Tony feel more than wretched, especially when the kid tries to hide it underneath a wobbly smile when he knows he’s been spotted.

But Tony sees.

He sees the fear, the lingering heartbreak, the uncertainty.

Tony gets it, doesn’t even want to begin to imagine how hard it must be to slot back into a life after five years, especially when those five years have only passed for some.  
Not for Peter. His last memory before the Snap is ‘getting all dusty’ and then suddenly he’s back in a world where things have changed, where people in his life have had to carry on without him.

Where Tony has had a life without him.

Moved away from the city, married Pepper, started a family.

Big, serious, life changing things.

And Peter wasn’t there for any of it.

It breaks Tony’s heart.

But once Tony figures out what’s going on, it doesn’t take him long to do something about it.

Tony looks up one afternoon as Peter steps in through the front door, jumping back with a mortified gasp as he accidentally tracks mud in from the yard. As the kid stumbles around, frantically trying to remove one of his shoes, Tony knows it’s the right moment.

With determined steps he strides forward, not even pausing when Peter looks up with alarm and begins to stammer his apologies. The kid pauses as Tony takes Peter’s face into his hands, right one trembling steadily, cupping the underside of Peter’s jaw so that his thumbs rest just under Peter’s ears and holds his gaze.

''You fit,'' Tony tells him, voice firm and insistent, ''you fit _right here.''_

He takes one of Peter’s hands and holds it to his chest, right above where his heart is beating a million miles an hour. Peter’s eyes widen at the speed but he never looks away from Tony’s face.

''I love you, kiddo.''

The words flow out of him as easily as air. Peter’s face immediately changes from a frozen mask of panic to an expression of tearful adoration, of sheer relief, of pure untainted love so deep that Tony doesn’t know how he ever survived without it.

''I-'' Peter rasps, laughing weakly as Tony hugs him tight, ''I love you too.''

It’s not an instant fix.

But it’s a damn good start.

 

********

 

As life truly begins to settle down, Tony notices it.

Quill, to his credit, is pretty good at hiding it. Sometimes, his joy and excitement for being back on his home planet is genuine, like when Peter shows him one of the many movies that he’s missed or reintroduces him to all of the fast food joints of America, but there’s something underneath it all, something sad and restless and bordering on anger.

He hides it well.

But Tony sees.

He finds Quill out in the garage, digging around for a tool to use on his ship, and leans casually against the body of the car he and Harley have recently been restoring.

Quill looks at him over his shoulder.

''What?''

''I looked you up.''

Quill tenses.

''Only child. Declared missing at the age of eight not long after your mother died.'' He pauses. ''Lots of search parties, pictures on milk cartons, police reports but there was never any trace of you.''

He can feel Quill’s rage in the air and hastens to finish. ''Last known living relative is a man named Harry Quill.''

The wrench Quill is holding clatters to the floor.

''Your grandfather, right?''

Quill looks at him, mouth set in a line, eyes wide with a furious sorrow.

''If you say one more word, Stark, I swear I’ll fucking-''

''I found him.''

Quill stumbles into the workbench so suddenly that Tony automatically jumps up to steady him. Quill doesn’t fight him off; instead he clutches hold of him, one hand around Tony’s arm and one fisting the edge of his shirt, holding on desperately.

''Y-you-he’s alive?''

Tony nods. ''Still in the house you and your mom lived in.''

A startled rush of air leaves Quill and he buckles a bit, sagging into Tony who braces himself to hold the other man up.

''C-can I-,'' he stutters, blinking at Tony with glistening eyes. ''I wanted to try and find him but-I couldn’t-'' he groans and ducks his head, sucking in a breath.

''Want me to come with you?''

After a moment, Quill nods. ''Y-yeah, that would be good.''

Tony watches from nearby when Harry Quill, old but hardy, takes one look at the man standing tentatively on the porch steps of his house before he’s snatching his long-lost grandson up into an embrace. Tony turns away to allow them some privacy and sends Peter a rather soppy text, one that he almost regrets sending until his screen lights up with equally slushy sentiments and way too many heart emojis.

 

********

 

Their first vacation as a team, destination somewhere hot and free of paparazzi, is a chaotic and brilliant one. Determined to give the kid a little bit of rest and relaxation to help with his nightmares and sleepless nights, Tony shanghais everybody into the trip with hardly anything more than the mention of a beach and endless supply of cocktails.

They’re clustered on Tony’s private jet (because of course he still has the thing for just in case reasons such as this) and Happy is all but having a fit as he tries to keep order, when Peter prods Tony in the arm.

''He’s doing it again,'' he whines and gestures to the swirls of orange light appearing at the back of the plane.

''Oh, for god’s sake, Strange,'' Tony complains as the man, cloak and all, steps through, ''would it have killed you to get on the plane like everyone else?''

''That would imply that I am like everyone else,'' Strange replies dryly.

''Why did I invite him again?'' Tony asks Peter before turning to glare at Strange again. ''Why did I invite you? You annoy me.''

Strange ignores him, striding into the cabin to take a seat beside Pepper who greets him warmly.

''I hate wizards.'' Tony grumbles.

Another figure steps through the portal.

''Except you, Wong.''

 

********

 

Sometimes Tony’s arm will shake so much that he can’t do a thing with it. For the first few weeks after he wakes up, it quivers almost constantly, making the rest of him vibrate along with it. Most of the time, he takes to hiding it in a sling not dissimilar to the one that Bruce uses and hopes that nobody notices.

Pepper notices.

He’s standing in front of the mirror in the steamy bathroom, razor held loosely in his left hand whilst his right trembles against the sink and takes a deep breath as he lifts the blade to his face.

Pepper’s calming touch dances across his damp shoulders, stilling him as she reaches over to pluck the razor from his fingers.

''Let me.''

He turns to face her, watches her through half-lidded eyes as her gaze narrows in concentration. The tip of her tongue pokes out from between her pink lips as she ever so delicately glides the razor across his skin in short, precise strokes.

He curls his good arm around her waist and holds her gently, sighing in relief as the trembles ease away a little. He feels such love for her in that moment that it makes him dizzy.

''You know,'' he purrs in a husky voice, ''this is kinda hot.''

Pepper snorts, holding his chin and turning his head to the left for a better angle. ''Me shaving you is hot?''

''Maybe,'' he says with a shrug. ''Though maybe it’s more you being this close to my almost naked self whilst wearing those pyjamas I like.''

Pepper glances down at the red and gold short and tank top set she’s wearing and smirks.

''Still as egotistical as ever, I see.''

The teasing is so familiar and warm that he barely notices that his arm has stopped shaking, doesn’t notice how it hooks steadily around Pepper’s waist as she wipes away the last of the shaving foam from his face and kisses him deeply, only realises the difference when he’s gently holding her to his chest in the afterglow and all he can do is laugh brightly and cheerfully tickle her face with his uneven goatee.

 

********

 

''What foul depraved evilness is this?!''

Thor’s infuriated yell does nothing to stop Tony’s howls of laughter. He clutches hold of Steve as he begins to sink to the floor whilst Rhodey leans helplessly against the porch railing, tears streaming down his face.

''What’s with all the noise?''

At the sound of Peter’s sleepy voice from above, Thor stumbles to his feet and pokes his head over the edge of the porch to look up at the boy’s bedroom window.

''Young spider! Do not ever go on the internet!'' Thor shakes his phone for emphasis. ''It is full of wicked and sickening madness!''

Steve begs for him to stop, one hand wrapped around his aching ribs, the other trying to hold Tony up as the man struggles to catch his breath.

''Oh,'' Peter says knowingly. ''Did you guys show him those stories about him and Loki?''

A fresh chorus of merry cackling and booming words of discontent is the only answer he gets before he gives up and shuts the window with a drowsy laugh.

 

********

 

Morgan loves bugs.

Absolutely loves them.

There’s the collection of crickets that she keeps in a (ventilated) box in her tent.

Then there’s the ladybug nest in the small bush by the porch steps that she chats to every morning.

She feeds sugary water to thirsty bumblebees and squeals in delight when the fireflies get a little brave and fly close by.

Worms make a frequent appearance at the outside dining table.

Butterflies are revered and treated with the utmost care.

And she’s quite nice to the earwigs that find their way into the house.

But more than anything, and it’s not surprising in the slightest, spiders are her absolute favourite.

('spiders aren’t bugs daddy they are arkanids!')

Tony greets Peter the next time he sees him with a ''Hey, arkanid,'' and smirks when he receives a shake of the head and a fond smile in response.

 

********

 

They hold a birthday party.

For everybody.

Not just for the ones that were gone but for those who were left behind too.

To make up for all that was missed, to share a special thing with those that should have been there all along.

There’s piñatas and an ice cream bar stocked with every single flavour imaginable. Birthday cakes of all shapes and sizes cover one table (Peter nearly cries when he blows out the candles of his Spider-Man one) whilst plate upon plate of everybody’s favourite foods (cheeseburgers take up the most room) covers another.

Tony buys a ridiculous number of inflatables for the lake. It isn’t long before all out war erupts; Peter, Tony, Rhodey and Thor manning an oversized pirate ship versus Steve, Bucky, Nat and Carol sitting astride two dolphins and a giant turtle. Morgan and Mantis helpfully provide unbiased aid by shooting water pistol from the shallows. It all goes to hell when Drax divebombs into the water.

There’s music, of course. Clint and Scott jam casually together for the best part of an hour before Carol steals Clint’s guitar and belts out a few familiar hits, taking everybody by surprise except for Rhodey, who just smiles knowingly. Tony eventually puts on a playlist, instructing FRIDAY to play it loud, and everybody gets up at least once for a dance. Morgan and Quill bust out some rather well synchronised moves (Tony’s caught them practicing once or twice) and Tony chuckles at the embarrassed grin on Peter’s face as he watches Happy rather impressively move May across the makeshift dancefloor. He can’t resist embarrassing the kid more by grabbing him for a dance himself, making him laugh as Tony whirls them round and round until they stumble over dizzily, taking Thor with them for good measure.

There’s presents too. Stacks of them. Nebula holds her new baseball glove and bat with such tenderness that Tony and Rhodey both choke up. Quill nearly passes out with glee as he unwraps a refurbished replica of his old Walkman and grabs a flailing Rocket in a bear hug while Wanda opens her gifts with such reverence that Tony has to turn away, feeling wobbly at the sight.

The firework display that rounds off the truly magical day is every bit as spectacular as it should be. Tony looks over at Peter, soaks in the way his grin turns all the different colours of the rainbow underneath the bright booming lights in the night sky, the happy sparkle of his eyes and the way his chest lifts and falls with every precious breath that he takes. Peter senses his gaze after a while and looks at him, grin turning into a softer smile that has Tony reaching for him immediately. Peter comes willingly and Tony hears a soft little coo from somewhere behind them as he cuddles his boy close, just because he can.

 

********

 

Nat and Tony sometimes sit quietly together on one of the benches overlooking the lake. They’ll watch as the fireflies dance over the water, listen to the soft murmur of the wildlife hidden from sight, breathe in the sweet scent of damp earth and wildflowers.

Some nights they’ll talk about nothing in particular, some days they’ll smirk and laugh at silly things and sometimes they’ll just sit in silence, little fingers brushing reassuringly together from where their hands rest on the bench between them.

She was almost lost to them forever and Tony can’t bear the thought. He finds it almost too difficult to look at her sometimes, hates remembering the despair they had all felt when they thought she was gone. He can tell she struggles with the memory too in the way she looks at him with such possessive fondness in her eyes, something she would have tried to hide before.

Nat cries once. There’s no warning; one minute she’s looking out onto the water and then the next she’s hunched over with her face in her hands, crying in a way that makes Tony feel like he’s going to splinter into tiny pieces.

He holds her, one arm curled around her head and the other wrapped tight around her heaving shoulders, and lets his own tears disappear into her hair.

 

********

 

Tony and Morgan often conduct experiments together.

Usually in the garden somewhere where Pepper can’t see and the potential for damage is slightly lower than inside the house.

Though Tony never has been quite able to adequately explain to Pepper just how the toaster managed to get three feet up a tree.

After everybody comes home again, Peter joins in too.

Rockets made of lethal amounts of coke and mentos zoom through the air at high speed. Peter attaches an old tyre to some webbing and Tony dons the Iron Man suit to swing the boy round and round over the lake until he lets go and Peter flies across the water with an exhilarated yell. Each time, they forget to measure the official distance and simply repeat it again and again until Tony feels sick and Peter swallows too much water.

When Harley visits, it’s utter chaos. Between him and Peter, the garage becomes an absolute disaster zone with smoking canisters of god knows what and engines making sounds Tony never thought possible. When a beaten-up old husk of a truck bursts out onto the dirt track one afternoon, Harley at the wheel and Peter attached to the back with his feet planted on a surfboard and a crash helmet on his head, Tony falls against a tree with a long-suffering sigh, wondering just how long it’ll be before they do actually give him a heart attack.

One day, Tony somehow gets hold of Cap’s shield. Peter fashions a slingshot out of two sticks and some webbing and they ping objects at it, ducking and falling to the floor with manly shrieks as everything bounces back at them with supreme speed. Morgan wears a batting helmet and shin pads for safety purposes and Tony feels wounded at the way she giggles when a stray flipflop catches him sharply in the most sensitive of areas. Steve considers this suitable punishment enough and sniggers at Tony’s moaning form on the ground.

In retaliation, Steve (with a gleeful Bucky’s help) is kidnapped, suspended from a tree by a long stretch of webbing with Mjolnir stuck to his hand and pulled high into the branches by Peter.

''Does this mean I’m worthy?'' Peter yells as he pulls, earning an exasperated shake of the head from Steve and a proud grin from Tony.

Dum-E loves to join in too, whirring happily and clicking his claw incessantly at Tony, begging for a fuss. Adorable but completely useless, Dum-E’s presence usually means that somebody is going to be subjected to his questionable fire safety antics and soon it becomes a game of who will be the last to fall victim to his trigger-happy ways with the fire hydrant. Tony loses every single time.

Morgan is fascinated by the fact that Peter is, for lack of a better term, sticky. So sticky that she can actually stick things to him. Peter stands still, face serious but eyes twinkling over at Tony, as Morgan presses a fork against him, followed by a comic book, a doll, a crayon drawing of a bird and whatever else she can find, singing itsy bitsy spider quietly as she works. By the end, Peter resembles a rather bizarre, if slightly impressive, work of modern art and Tony is kicking himself for never thinking of a nickname so obvious as itsy bitsy.

 

********

 

Tony is officially and legally named as a guardian for Peter.

May blurts the question out at Tony one evening as he’s standing in the kitchen of the Parker apartment, leaning against the sideboard while he waits for the kid to pack a bag for his weekend at the cabin.

Tony’s eyes go comically wide at her question, dark irises locking onto her with intensity.

''What?''

May flaps a hand and glances at Peter’s bedroom door warningly before lifting a finger to her lips, silencing him. She scoots closer to Tony, invading his space so suddenly that he actually feels a bit uncomfortable.

''I’ve been wanting to ask you-he’s been wanting to ask you for so long now and with everything that’s happened…'' May sighs and looks at him in the soft motherly way she always does whenever she’s talking about Peter. ''It would mean the world to the both of us if you would do it.''

Tony swallows.

''Me too.''

Tony and May tell Peter together. They sit beside each other on the couch, Peter perched on the coffee table in front of them, unconsciously reaching out to grip hands as they wait anxiously for the kid to respond.

It takes all of five seconds before there’s a delighted gasp of ''really?!'' and Peter is flying into Tony’s arms, nearly tipping the couch back in his excitement. He chuckles and hugs the boy tight, breathes in the reassuring aroma of teen bop body spray and sensitive fabric softener and knows that he’s made one of the best decisions of his life.

 

********

 

Tony eavesdrops.

He can’t help it. It almost borders on being an addiction really but he just can’t resist listening, can’t resist hearing the sweet sounds of the life around him.

The million mile an hour way Peter talks to Ned via video chat about ridiculous, silly, wonderful things like Lego and chemistry tests and their obsessive frame by frame scrutiny of movie trailers.

Morgan chattering with her action figures. Her high-pitched impression of Steve is one of Tony’s favourite things ever.

Pepper humming showtunes in the shower as she washes her hair.

The soft, curious tone of Nebula’s voice as she questions an amused Rhodey about the latest sport she’s discovered. Her favourite so far is ice hockey.

Harley and Peter’s happy and boisterous laughter from behind their bedroom door.

Steve’s wild cackle of a laugh that feels as warm as sunshine when it carries over from the guest house, usually followed by Barnes or Wilson swearing at him.

Bruce and Rocket bickering over the loud crashing of tools in the workshop.

Scott’s dorky dad jokes that make Peter, Harley and Cassie roll their eyes and Strange’s dry insults that Tony can’t help but find funny despite the disgruntled front he puts up.

The glorious way Carol playfully chews Fury out, leaving the man shaking his head with an exasperated but undoubtedly fond sigh.

The mystery and mischief in Thor’s voice as he regales a wide-eyed and eager Morgan with gory tales of gruesome battles and the many adventures of the Warriors Three.

Quill and Groot’s soft exchanges from their perch on the thick tree branch that hangs over the lake.

Nat and Clint teasing each other in the way only old friends can.

Happy ranting at someone on the phone, bossy and endearingly grumpy.

The sweetness of Pepper and Morgan talking quietly as they snuggle up on the couch, tender and warm and so irrevocably perfect.

Tony seeks it out wherever he can, unashamedly hovers and lingers, soaking up every little ounce where possible.

But sometimes the sounds he so desperately craves aren’t hidden behind doors or caught on the air in fleeting moments.

They are given directly to him.

''You’re a pain in the ass,'' Pepper laughs sweetly against his mouth as Tony, fresh from a swim in the lake, corrals her in a dripping wet hug.

''Mister Sta-I mean Ton-I mean _Dad_ ,'' Peter blabbers in excitement as he crashes through the front door, a hundred and one new things to tell Tony since the day before.

''I love you 3000,'' Morgan murmurs sleepily up at him as he tucks her in at bedtime.

Those sounds are always, above all else, the most beautiful in the whole universe.

 

********

 

''I can’t wait to see the kid’s face.''

Harley smiles tiredly at him, weary from travelling.

''You didn’t tell him you were coming, right?'' Tony peers suspiciously at him.

''No,'' Harley replies with an exaggerated sigh. ''I already told you that I didn’t.''

''Yeah well, I don’t trust you two.'' Tony glares at him over his sunglasses. ''You scheme too much.''

''That’s nice,'' Harley hums, looking past Tony to stare out of the car window at the front entrance of Peter’s school. His leg jiggles impatiently until Tony halts it with a firm hand on his knee.

''He’s late,'' Happy announces from the front seat.

''Probably just talking to Ned,'' Tony shrugs then smiles softly. ''Or that girl he likes.''

''MJ,'' Happy says helpfully.

Tony looks up at the back of his head. ''Yes, thank you, Hap, I know-''

''It won’t be that,'' Harley cuts in, ducking down to get a better look at the main doors. ''He’s still too scared to talk to her properly.''

''Hold on a damn second!'' Tony protests. ''Peter is _my_ Spider-baby so I don’t need you two telling me-''

''There he is!'' Happy says loudly before his expression slips into a frown.

Seeing his reaction, Tony turns his gaze back to the window.

He spots Peter standing on the steps amongst a sea of other teenagers, looking up at another boy who is gesturing at Peter with a sneer on his face. Peter shakes his head at the boy and turns around, only to stumble down a few steps as he is shoved hard in the back, catching himself at the last second, face bright red and eyes wide with shock and embarrassment.

Tony and Happy are out of the car in an instant, livid and oh so ready to tear the little brat to pieces, but Harley is the one who gets there first, somehow already strides ahead of the two men.

''Hey, asshole!''

The boy looks up, as does Peter who gapes at Harley in surprise. ''Harley? What are-''

Harley moves Peter behind him as he reaches the steps to stand level with the other kid. ''I’m talking to you, douchebag!''

The boy shrinks back as he looks up into Harley’s face. Though not somebody that one would usually consider to be threatening, Harley cuts a rather intimidating figure as he leans into the boy’s space, looking every inch the protective older brother, and scowls darkly at him.

''W-who are you?''

''Doesn’t matter who I am, who the fuck are you?''

Harley’s voice is sharp and not unlike Tony’s when he’s about to tear shreds into something or somebody.

''F-Flash.''

''Seriously?'' Harley turns to look at Peter who’s standing awkwardly by his shoulder. ''Is he serious?''

Peter nods quickly.

''Okay, _Flash_ ,'' Harley’s face twists as though the name has left a bad taste in his mouth, ''I’m only gonna say this once. Mess with Peter again and you’ll be dealing with me,'' he points over to where Tony and Happy are standing, all grim faced and menacing sunglasses and folded arms, ''and them.''

Flash instantly recognises Tony even with the sunglasses and turns a horrid shade of puce.

''Now,'' Harley steps aside so that Flash has a full view of Peter. ''Apologise.''

''B-bu-''

_''Now.''_

''I’m sorry!'' Flash shrieks, eyes filling with tears as he shakes like a leaf. ''I’m really sorry, Peni-I mean Peter!''

Harley gives him a shove, snorting with disgust, and doesn’t even watch the kid leave before he turns to Peter and steers him over to where Tony and Happy are waiting.

''You okay, kid?'' Tony asks when they reach him, giving Peter’s shoulder a firm squeeze.

''Yeah, I’m fine, I mean, holy shit…'' he laughs weakly. ''That was kinda awesome.''

Tony can’t help grinning at Harley. ''I had no idea you could be so scary, bud.''

Harley blushes a little, suddenly totally different from the guy who looked like he was ready to pummel the snot out of someone mere moments ago. ''Yeah, well…I hate bullies.''

''Has that guy been hassling you regularly?'' Happy asks, looking a bit red in the face.

Peter looks down at his feet. ''Well, uh, y’know, I don’t really have that, uh, many friends and he’s just never really liked me…''

''That’s a yes then.'' Tony surmises as he takes a deep breath to try and quell the fury he feels roiling to life in the pit of his stomach. He knows why the kid does what he does, why he puts up with so much crap from kids he could easily take out with his little finger, why he treads the line of being Peter Parker and Spider-Man by only using his powers for what he deems as doing the right thing, but god if Tony doesn’t wish that the kid would just use them for morally questionable purposes just this one.

Hell, in this case it isn’t even morally questionable. Nobody would judge him for stringing bullies up by their goolies with his webbing, especially Tony who would have no shame in proudly cheering him on.

''It’s disgusting,'' Harley says with a growl, though he looks more upset than angry now. ''You saved the universe and that’s how these assholes repay you?''

''They don’t know I was involved.'' Peter jerks his head at Tony. ''Besides, _he_ saved the universe.''

''Not alone, Underoos.'' Tony pulls him into a one-armed embrace. ''You were right there with me.''

Peter blushes, looking pleased and a bit proud.

''I think it’s safe to say that nobody’s gonna be bothering you for a good while, kiddo,'' Tony smirks over at Happy. ''Though I reckon the Forehead of Security over there might need to go in and have words, you know, just to make himself feel better.''

Peter stammers in protest as Happy does just that, clearing the steps in no time and disappearing into the building.

''So, who’s up for ice cream?'' Tony snags Harley with his other arm and pulls both the boys in close. ''Because I know I could sure go for a scoop or two of Stark Raving Hazelnuts!''

Though anger, more like rage really, still twists bitterly inside him, Tony allows warmth to override it a little as he watches Peter and Harley walk a step ahead of him; watches the way Peter’s eyes flood with gratitude as he looks at the older boy, sees how Harley smiles shyly with affection in return.

He knows he can’t fight every battle for him, knows that Peter is slowly finding his way in the world, still finding the balance between Peter Parker and Spider-Man, but that doesn’t mean he can’t have a little help every now and then.

And if help occasionally comes in the form of someone as rare and genuine as Harley Keener, well, Tony knows that Peter is one hell of a lucky kid.

 

********

 

Tony’s always been one for nicknames.

Once a way of keeping people at bay and making things remain impersonal, they started to have a different meaning when he went to college and met Rhodey.

Young, brilliant and full of an arrogant anger, Tony had thrown condescending and haughty labels out wherever he went, earning himself more than his fair share of enemies before the end of the very first week.

Rhodey saw through it all, had laughed when Tony had sneeringly referred to him as sourpatch when Rhodey moaned at him for leaving his unwashed dishes in the sink again, and for some reason that was the beginning of their beautiful friendship. To this day, neither of them can remember where platypus and honey bear came from.

Pepper was always Miss Potts; he had a different way of saying it for every mood or need that struck him, but always loved the way the words skipped across his tongue like popping candy. He snuck in a Pepper once or twice, testing the waters, before using it more and more; this gave way to Pep, then honey, then hon. He still calls her Miss Potts even though she’s now a Stark, and he knows that she likes hearing it just as much as he likes saying it.

The disgruntled bodyguard formally known as Harold Hogan was immediately dubbed Happy when Tony realised he was one of the few people who could get the man to crack a smile. Or, at least, he was in the beginning until a Spider-kid and miniature version of Tony invaded their lives.

Steve is Cap, Capsicle, Rogers and sometimes, when they’re both being a bit gooey, he’s just Steve.

Thor is Point Break, something Tony never fails to find hilarious, along with Lebowski because he just loves the way Thor glares fondly at him.

Nat is Miss Romanoff, though he calls her Tasha sometimes when it’s just the two of them.

And he knows damn well that Clint actually likes being called Legolas.

Bruce, the most tolerant of them all, has many names; Brucie, Brucie-bear, Brucie-baby, Jolly Green, Banner, Big Green, Emerald City, Hulkster and, when Tony gets that fuzzy feeling in his chest that comes from working with his friend, Bruce is known as ‘my most favouritest science bro’. The last one always makes Bruce grin.

Harley is bud, sandwich maker, brat, yutz. Tony loves the smile he gets when he refers to the boy as The Mechanic, emphasis on _the._

Nebula, for all her lethalness, is easily turned to mush whenever he refers to her as Cornflower or Bluebell. Nebs always gets a little smirk too.

Morgan has so many nicknames that he very rarely refers to her by her actual name. Morguna, little miss, mini me, sweetheart, teeny tiny, honey, baby are just a few.

Peter is also the recipient of many terms of endearment: Spider-baby, kid, kiddo, buddy, Pete, Underoos, Itsy bitsy (thank you Morgan) and whatever little sarcastic or teasing quip comes to mind.

Thing is, nicknames, at least where Peter and Morgan are concerned, are interchangeable.

''Great job, buddy,'' Tony cheers as Morgan brandishes a pretty impressive Iron Man figure made out of popsicle sticks at him.

''It’s okay, baby, it’s okay,'' Tony murmurs as he pulls a shivering Peter close and pushes his sweaty hair away from his fever-warm forehead.

''Eat your broccoli, kiddo,'' he orders with a smile as Morgan scowls distrustfully at her dinner.

It’s only when he accidentally calls Peter sweetheart as the kid bids him goodnight one evening that Tony realises what’s been happening. He decides that it fits, it makes sense and, judging from the pleased little flush across Peter’s face, he’s not the only one who thinks so.

Of course, Tony himself has had plenty of names in his time besides his given one.

Genius, Boss, Wonder Boy, the Da Vinci of our time, the Mechanic, Iron Monger…the Merchant of Death…the Most Famous Mass Murderer in the History of America, along with a whole bunch of rather rude and unflattering monikers too. Why the hell he lets Cap get away with calling him shellhead, he really doesn’t know.

Rhodey has nearly always called him Tones, along with various other affectionate insults, usually idiot or asshole.

Pepper has said his name with sass and a smirk since the beginning, but still somehow kept it on just the right side of professional in the earlier days. After a while, the tenderness began to seep in, the care and the warmth and the love and when she called him Tony for the first time, and every other time since, he felt his world pull back onto its axis just a little bit.

There’s lots of ways that ‘Mr Stark’ has been said to him over the years: screamed, shouted, begged, groaned, snarled, sneered, whispered, sighed exasperatedly in Pepper’s case and, yes, even moaned on the odd occasion, not that he likes to remind himself of those long-gone days.

His name carried weight and power, inspired excitement in some and hatred in others; sometimes he even hated it himself.

Until the first time an even younger and unassuming Peter Parker says it after Tony surprises him at his apartment. For all the kid’s stuttering shock, he speaks the name clearly, normally, with nothing but respect.

Tony doesn’t think much of it at first, but then the kid sort of just invades nearly every area of his life, and he hears his name spoken in so many different ways again, and it’s nothing like before. Softly, gently, awkwardly, excitedly, full of awe, full of wonder, full of affection.

_(Mr Stark? I don’t feel so good)_

Full of fear.

He hates the fact that the kid was crying when he first refers to Tony by his first name, hates that he didn’t have the strength to say anything back, couldn’t even tease the boy about the fact that they were finally _there_ with that too. Peter switches back to Mr Stark until the whole conversation about Peter not sleeping in the guest house takes place, and then it’s just Tony. There’s still the occasional slip up sometimes, mainly when Peter is excessively sleepy or injured, but Tony doesn’t mind, kinda loves it really because of the wave of nostalgia he gets every time the kid mumbles ''Missa S’ark'' at him in a dopey tone.

He earns the title of Daddy when Morgan appears in the world and it’s a name that grounds him and raises him up at the same time.

Though he’s still mainly known as Tony by the kid, he’s also gifted the name Dad when Peter, a little while after the first anniversary of the end of the war, leans against Tony in an exhausted slump and whispers ''goodnight, dad,'' in a voice so sleepy and soft that Tony isn’t sure if he’s tearing up because of how much he loves the kid or how much the kid loves him.

It’s love either way, and it’s what he would fight the universe for over and over again if he had to.

 

********

 

May is a veritable hit with everybody.

She comes with a guarantee already because she’s Peter’s aunt, and everybody loves Peter, but it isn’t long before everybody loves her on her own merit.

She and Pepper find a solid friend in one another, their bond sealed by their mutual understanding of each other’s exasperation over the main men in their lives. Thor finds her beyond charming and wraps her in a bear hug each time he sees her; Steve is all bashful respect until he witnesses May’s playful and (only after the kids are in bed) filthy sense of humour and then he’s chuckling with a flushed face nearly every time she speaks to him, and Rhodey finds himself another member of the ‘let’s take the piss out of Tony because we’re just so mean’ club and regularly flashes a smug smirk at Tony when he’s on the receiving end of a teasing barb yet again. She develops an easy friendship with Bruce, no doubt due to the comforting presence that just seems to ooze out of the giant green man, and of course Happy is still ridiculously, hilariously, besotted with her.

Tony thinks that May likes him too, a fact which he regularly rubs delightedly in Peter’s face, though he can tell that the kid doesn’t really mind underneath all the protests and mortified complaining.

Peter radiates pure joy whenever she’s around, leaning against her happily as they all sit together outside after dinner. Tony loves to look at them as the light of the setting sun bounces off the water and bathes them in an enchanting glow, locks it away in the little box in his mind made for moments just as peaceful and precious as this.

He owes May Parker the world really.

Because what else can you give the person who helped make Peter Parker _Peter Parker?_

 

********

 

Peter has a date to the winter dance.

Peter has a date and Tony is all kinds of jubilant and mocking and proud and heartbroken all at once.

Because it’s hilarious.

Because having a date is a brilliant thing and he’s happy that Peter gets to experience it.

Because Peter is good and kind and brilliant and who wouldn’t be proud of a kid like Peter?

Because Peter is his kid and is growing up way too fast.

''What’s with the panicking?'' he questions as Peter paces in front of him. ''Didn’t you go with that Liz girl to homecoming?''

''That was different!'' Peter digs his hands into his hair. ''I didn't even get to dance. Besides,'' he looks up at Tony with terrified eyes, ''this is _MJ!''_

Ah, the magical and enchanting MJ that Tony knows Peter has been crazy about for so long.

''So?''

''So?'' Peter nearly yells, looking beyond freaked out. ''So it’s only a week away and I don’t have anything to wear and I’ve forgotten how to dance like do I put my hands on her waist or not and oh god what if she expects kissing I’ve never kissed anyone before-''

''Say no more, kiddo.'' Tony interrupts him, giving him a gentle shake and prompting him to take a deep breath. ''Fear not, Spinderella, for you shall go to the ball!''

Tony takes the kid shopping, decks him out in a pair of smart jeans, a nice shirt that complements his eyes and a stylish jacket. He insists on buying shoes too when he spies a snazzy pair of black brogues in a window, nodding in approval when Peter treads them carefully across the store carpet.

Never in his wildest dreams did he ever think he’d wind up teaching an awkward teenager how to slow dance in his living room, but then stranger things have happened. There’s a sentient tree and a talking racoon currently playing hide and seek with his daughter, for crying out loud.

Peter is the colour of a red hydrant and Tony is valiantly trying not to laugh as he waltzes the kid around the room. They trip over each other a few times and Tony’s sure his toes will be aching for at least a week, but sure enough, Peter eventually picks it up and bashfully leads Tony around, deftly nudging the coffee table out of the way when they draw too close to it.

''Don’t be doing that to any of the other kids at the dance, buddy,'' Tony teases, taking the lead again and lifting his arm to playfully twirl Peter in a circle. ''Don’t want a riot on your hands.''

Peter glares at him before sniggering as Tony twirls him again.

Tony elects himself as chauffeur for the evening. Peter sits up front with him on the way to MJ’s house, legs bouncing like mad and hands tapping a broken rhythm on his knees.

They’d discussed the whole kissing thing; there had been a wonderfully and hilariously awkward moment where Peter had wondered just how Tony was going to help him with that particular issue, but Tony had merely tucked a box of mints into the inside pocket of Peter’s jacket and told him to just do what felt natural.

''That’s not helpful!'' Peter had screeched at him. ''Nothing feels natural!''

They pull up outside MJ’s house and Tony waits as casually as he can in the car as Peter goes to collect his date. There’s a tug of pride in his chest as Peter opens the door for MJ and holds out a hand for her to grasp as she slides in to the car. She’s all dry wit and teasing jibes, but Tony can see the shyness in her dark eyes and the soft look on her face as Peter talks to her.

He pulls up outside the school and gestures for Peter to come closer after he sees MJ safely up onto the sidewalk.

Peter ducks his head in through the window, making it so their faces are inches apart. Tony allows himself a minute to look at the kid and fights the sudden urge to just yank him back into the car and drive away, just to keep him for that little bit longer before another part of him shifts to form a piece of the man he is inevitably growing into.

He spent five years missing _this_ Peter Parker; missing his sweetness and unwavering kindness, his goofy charisma and all the little quirks that somehow make him both a typical teenager and something completely extraordinary and Tony isn’t quite ready to say goodbye to him again, isn’t ready to see this part of Peter disappear again, even if it’s for all the right reasons, even if he’s excited to see what the future holds for Peter Parker.

Tony takes a breath and, just as Peter’s face begins to crease with concern, leans forward and brushes a kiss against his forehead.

Peter tilts back a little with a blink of surprise before a smile creeps onto his face.

''Have fun, kiddo.''

Peter nods and though he doesn’t say anything, Tony knows that Peter can tell what he’s thinking when the kid reaches forward to quickly squeeze one of his hands.

Tony watches Peter hurry back over to MJ and, just because he has to embarrass the kid a little bit at least, shouts ''Use protection!'' before speeding off with an obnoxiously loud cackle, not needing to look in the mirror to know that Peter is doing his very best tomato impression.

 

********

 

Affection is everywhere now.

Tony knows he’s the worst of the bunch, forever touching and seeking physical contact, grounding himself in the feeling of Peter’s hair between his fingers or the familiar slope of Rhodey’s shoulder under his palm or the warmth of Pepper and Morgan as they snuggle up against him in bed in the mornings.

He knows he’s gone softer than soft, can’t help it, doesn’t really care because he went to hell and back for exactly this.

And so, it seems, did everyone else.

The team has always been tactile, eager and willing to grip shoulders comfortingly and offer steady bodies to lean wearily into.

It’s different now though.

Touches linger, quick hugs turn into strong embraces, heads often rest against shoulders and personal space is a long-lost concept. It reminds him of the days they spent trying to figure out how to find the stones where they would stretch out next to each other and grumble tiredly at one another as they tried to solve the mysteries of the universe.

It’s kinda new and strange and Tony doesn’t quite know what to make of it at first, isn’t quite sure if he’s imagining it, projecting his own need for comfort, need for the tangible reassurance of everybody truly being there, alive, _real_ -

Then the night in the tent happens and he knows for sure that he isn’t imagining it at all.

It’s Steve’s idea for just the six of them, the 'OG’s' as Peter calls them, to go camping for the night. He insistently refers to it as a team bonding exercise until Tony looks at him for the hundredth time with his eyebrows raised disbelievingly, and then he caves.

''I’m worried about Nat,'' Steve says, voice hushed and serious. ''I don’t think she’s really been sleeping well since…since she got back. So I thought that with all of us around, maybe she might feel a bit safer.''

_('Did she have any family?'_

_'Yeah…us.')_

Well, Tony didn’t need telling twice.

Which is how he ends up trapped with the others in what can only be the _smallest fucking tent in the world._

Clint flails around with a growl, all jerky legs and solid elbows.

''Can you just-a little to the- _goddamnit_ Steve, get your foot outta my back!''

There’s a series of groaning and moaning and sleeping bags rustling as everyone shuffles to find a comfortable position.

''This is, quite literally, the worst idea you’ve ever had, Rogers,'' Tony declares as he sits up, displaying his messy hair and the baggy sweatshirt drooping off his left shoulder.

''Would you give it a rest?'' Steve grouses as he tries to untangle himself from the end of Clint’s sleeping bag. ''It’s not that bad.''

''I beg to differ,'' Thor grumbles as he tries to roll over onto his back.

Tony has never missed his bed so much in his life.

''Have you even _been_ camping before, Thor?'' Bruce asks.

''I think the more important question here is has Cap ever been camping before?'' Tony groans as he tries to shake the tingling sensation out of his left leg. ''Seriously, you didn’t think to get a bigger tent?''

Steve, looking annoyingly put together despite the cramped space and hot air save for the damp hunk of hair curling against his forehead, huffs in frustration.

''It’s a seven-man tent, Tony!''

Tony falls back dramatically against Bruce. ''Jolly Green here is worth at least five!''

''Hey,'' Bruce protests mildly, clearly not that offended. ''I’m not that big.''

''Four, then.'' Tony grunts as he tries to find a comfy position without kicking Thor. ''I liked it better when I was the taller one,'' he laments, making Bruce chuckle and nudge him affectionately.

''Can’t we just go back to the house?'' Clint begs.

''No!'' Steve barks, finally shaking himself free. ''We said we were camping so we are camping.''

There follows a great chorus of rustling sleeping bags and limbs knocking together and disgruntled moaning as the air in the tent grows even more damp with heat and tempers being to fray ever so slightly until-

''Hey quiet shhhh!'' Thor hisses and flaps a hand in the air, silencing them all. ''Look.''

Five pairs of eyes look at the figure lying in the centre of the madness and five faces break out into fond smiles.

Nat, with her sleeping bag pulled up to her chin so only her peaceful face is visible, is fast asleep. Her red hair is spread out like a scarlet halo against her pillow and her eyelids flutter gently like she’s dreaming.

Tony lifts his gaze to Steve and finds the man looking back at him, smiling softly.

''Well I guess we’re not going anywhere,'' Clint quips, eyes shining tenderly as he looks down at his best friend.

The tension eases away then; elbows digging into sides become arms resting lazily over chests, kicking feet become jumbles of legs, grizzly sniping becomes playful teasing and warm laughter and soon enough, the dead of night closes in and the tent falls silent, save for the low snoring of a demigod and the wordless mumbles of a super-soldier.

The tent door is unzipped hours after dawn breaks. A head pokes itself in and surveys the scene with a growing grin before a phone is pulled from a pocket.

Later on, Tony regards Rhodey questioningly as the man hands him his phone.

''I take it you slept well?''

Tony looks at the phone and studies the scene captured in the picture displayed on the screen.

The inside of the tent looks even smaller in the photo. Pillows lay cast aside in favour of heads resting against chests, arms and legs and hands and feet tangle together with unbreakable grips and blankets are spread all over in a garish patchwork pattern. Bruce is spread out like a starfish, one arm clutching his pillow while the other is stretched out to the side, supporting the heads of Tony and Thor. Tony is on his side with his hand buried in the soft fabric of Thor’s shirt, his leg thrown over Thor’s thighs and his left foot just touching the back of Nat’s knees. Thor, always one for a cuddle, has one arm hooked over Tony’s leg and the other firmly wrapped around Nat’s waist with his face pressing into the space between her shoulders. Nat’s fingers are threaded together around Clint’s bicep, their faces inches apart with Steve pressing into Clint’s other side, held in place by an arm and resting comfortably with his head on Clint’s shoulder.

Tony feels himself beaming like an idiot at the sight.

''Jealous, honey bear?''

Rhodey snorts. ''Please. I’ve woken up next to you in much worse positions too many times in my life. I think I’ve had my quota.''

Tony hands him back his phone and stretches, groaning as his back gives a rather impressive crack.

''Regretting it yet?'' Rhodey chuckles.

Tony looks over to where the others are clustered together in the living room, takes in their easy smiles and relaxed laughter, sees Nat’s face free from dark circles and alight with happiness.

''Definitely not.''

 

********

 

They do all the things that normal people do; every day little things that seem small to some but seem so enormously special to them.

Tony and Peter go to the movies and order obscene amounts of candy, most of which ends up down the backs of their shirts and on the floor by their feet as they throw it at each other. Sometimes a few of the others will join them; Rhodey will hiss at them to shut up whilst Thor tries to catch any stray pieces of chocolate that fly his way.

They visit an aquarium one Saturday, late in the afternoon when there’s not so many people around. Morgan shrieks excitedly and presses her face against the glass of a tank holding a giant collection of clown fish, bouncing up and down with such joy that a few passers by stop to smile at her. Tony develops a fondness for the giant octopus that lazily waves at them from its perch on a large rock and finds himself automatically waving back, much to his embarrassment and Peter’s glee. Nebula likes the sharks the best.

They go for long walks in the woods where Morgan collects flowers and Peter climbs to scary heights in the trees; Peter sings obnoxiously loud in the car as they drive into the city and Tony can only shake his head and resist for so long before he joins in; they take Harley to the history museum and Tony rolls his eyes as both Harley and Peter lament the fact that the exhibits don’t come to life like they do in the movies. They visit a theme park where a few whirls on a fast rollercoaster leaves Steve puking his guts up into a trash can and Peter propping a green-faced Tony up, laughing unabashedly at the groaning man while Rhodey shakes his head in disappointment. Several pictures leak to the press the following day; Tony has the one of Steve throwing up framed and hung in the living room of the guest house.

Sometimes though, try as they might, they don’t do things exactly like everybody else. Playing a friendly game of football in the park isn’t normal when it involves a demigod and super-soldier duking it out for dominance as they pile into each other on the grass, nor is going to a spa where the person giving Thor a seaweed facial steals a strand or two from his beard and Quill winds up trapped in the sauna with two rather excited middle-aged women, Tony and Rhodey cackling outside the door as the man shuffles away in alarm.

Tony comes home one afternoon to find the outside of the guest house covered in various shades of paint, bubblegum pink clashing violently with sunset orange and forest green, and a gaggle of red-faced teammates arguing furiously and brandishing paint brushes at each other. He later learns that they’d wanted to give the cabin a lick of fresh paint, a rather funny way of saying thank you to him, but it seems nobody had actually agreed on the best choice of colour. To this day it’s still a rather garish sight to behold.

Then there’s the school run. Tony isn’t alone when he collects Morgan after her first day of kindergarten; Happy, Steve, Thor, Rhodey and Peter are all waiting excitedly in the back, shoving each other for a better view out of the window. It’s one thing to be collected from school by your dad, who just happens to be Tony Stark, but it’s another thing entirely to be collected by Tony Stark and half the damn Avengers. Morgan doesn’t seem to mind though; in fact she screams with joy when Tony opens the car door to reveal a bunch of excited faces beaming at her.

So they pretty much fail at being normal people, at least by conventional standards.

 _Eh,_ Tony thinks to himself with a shrug as he shoves his way into the crowded back seat, _normal is relative anyway._

 

********

 

It was Peter’s idea to watch scary movies.

Tony found this quite nice in a bizarre way. The kid had experienced more terrifying things in real life than any movie could come up with, faced unimaginable horrors and felt a fear unparallel to anything else, and yet he had somehow overcome all of that to reach a point where he could sit and watch all manner of spooky and gory movie clichés play out on a screen with a smile on his face.

Tony hums contently as he slouches lower into the couch, glad of the rest after a busy day.

After seeing to all the last-minute touches for the Halloween party that was taking place the following evening (a day later than the official date so that Harley could attend) Tony and Peter had fulfilled all the obligatory trick or treating rituals with a very over-excited Morgan. The girl had arrived home from school in an explosion of crepe paper spiders, garish black and orange crayon drawings and excited babbling, more than ready to go knocking on doors and demanding candy from strangers. This year, she was dressed up as Spider-Man, much to Peter’s absolute delight and Tony’s playful jealousy.

Now, the little girl was tucked up safe and sound in her bed, thoroughly exhausted and not permitted to touch any of her sugary loot until the party and Pepper was having an early night with a face mask and a glass of wine, which left Peter and Tony flopped together on the couch, _Aliens_ projected on the wall and a oversized bowl of popcorn between them.

''Who’s your favourite?'' Tony asks as he shovels a handful of kernels into his mouth.

''Ripley, obviously.'' Peter scoffs at the question.

Tony nods. ''You like strong women, huh?'' He chews thoughtfully. ''I like Hudson.''

''Really?'' Peter asks in surprise.

''Yeah! Man’s a realist,'' Tony says and gestures to where said character is freaking out massively on the screen. ''They’re completely fucked and he’s the only one who admits it!''

Peter shakes his head. ''So would have pegged you for a Hicks fan.''

''Oh, I like him too.'' Tony replies, holding out the bowl for Peter to dig his hand into. ''I just love the whole 'game over man, game over!' bit more.''

Peter chuckles and Tony grins, warmed by the sound. With a contented sigh, he sinks deeper into the couch, feeling pleasantly comfortable and a little dozy.

Then Peter jerks suddenly, causing Tony to nearly upend the bowl into his lap.

''What? What's wrong?'' He looks at the boy in alarm, ready to spring off the couch.

'''S'nothin,'' the kid mumbles, flushing a little. ''Just heard some thunder, that’s all.''

Tony relaxes back into the pillows. ''Nothing to do with ol' slimy over there?'' He asks and gestures to the screen where acid blood splatters all over the place and a xenomorph snarls menacingly.

Peter rolls his eyes. ''I’ve seen this movie like five times now, it’s not scary.''

Tony chucks a few kernels at him and they settle back down, though Tony is aware of Peter growing tenser, curling in on himself more and more as the storm begins to roll in. Soon, rain is lashing at the windows and a howling wind whistles between the rumbles of thunder and bolts of lightning. Tony hears a door open upstairs and Pepper’s feet treading the well-worn path to Morgan’s room, no doubt making sure she’s okay. The girl could sleep through a tornado, Tony reckons, but knows that Pepper just likes to be sure.

As another growl of thunder ripples through the air, Tony feels Peter shift again and turns to look at him. The kid is huddled down against the couch cushions; his oversized Iron Man hoodie, faded from age, and the Hello Kitty pyjama pants making him look years younger than he is. One of his arms is curled around his middle and one sleeve covered hand is up by his mouth, drawing Tony’s attention to his eyes which are wide and glistening.

A much louder crack of thunder rattles the windows and Tony reaches out to touch the nearest part of Peter, which happens to be his left foot, and jumps back a bit when the kid flinches away.

''Whoa, hey, it’s okay,'' he says, holding out a hand whilst setting the bowl of popcorn down on the floor with the other. ''You’re okay.''

Peter looks at him. The skin around his eyes is blotchy and a stray tear escapes onto his lashes as he visibly trembles.

''Kid?''

Peter lowers his hand a little, the edge of the sleeve resting below his bottom lip.

''I-'' he breathes, voice way too sad, ''It’s just…t-thunder makes me think of…''

He trails off. He doesn’t need to say anymore, because Tony knows what he means.

Titan.

Tony had only noticed the streaks of light ripping through the orange haze, the ominous vibrations in the air, as Nebula had led him towards the ship that belonged to the Guardians, exhausted and so broken, his fingers rubbing together as the grains of dust, of _Peter_ , fell away from Tony’s skin and vanished just like the rest of him.

The sound outside is nothing like the bizarrely cheerful crack of noise and stream of light that always comes with Thor’s arrival; it’s ominous, threatening and intense and makes the hairs on Tony’s arm stand on end despite the fact that he’s not the one who’s afraid.

Not really, anyway.

The next snap of thunder is loud and sudden and sends Peter catapulting upwards with a yelp. Tony quickly moves to stand directly beneath him as he clings to the ceiling, head tucked down into his hoodie so that only his eyes and mop of unruly curls are visible.

''Kiddo…''

Tony’s heart cracks a bit at the sheen of terror in Peter’s eyes. He knows that the kid’s been having less and less nightmares lately and can regularly go for weeks without one but sometimes, much like Tony, it’ll only take a little something for it all to come flooding back.

''You gonna get down?''

Peter shakes his head furiously, curls bouncing wildly.

Another bang and another flinch, this time with a whimper.

An idea strikes Tony then. Listening carefully, he holds out his arms and waits.

At the next boom, he speaks.

''C’mon down, Spider-baby.''

Peter doesn’t flinch at the thunder; instead he just continues to look at Tony.

''It’s okay,'' Tony says, voice soft and lilting but just loud enough over another rumble. ''You’re safe.''

Bursts of light flash outside the rain-spattered windows but Tony keeps his eyes locked onto Peter’s, keeps the kid’s attention on him, keeps talking over each rumble and growl that echoes through the night.

''It’s okay, Underoos, I promise.''

He crooks his fingers on both hands back and forth encouragingly.

''Please, buddy.''

Peter blinks at him and there’s a long pause before he slowly begins to unstick himself.

''That’s it, baby,'' Tony croons, the endearment rolling off his tongue, ''it’s okay.''

He doesn’t quite know how he and Peter both figured that Tony would catch him but he does, groaning a little under the kid’s weight and stumbling back into the couch, his arms and lap full of a trembling teenager. They shuffle a bit until Peter is sat in the gap between Tony and the arm of the couch, legs draped over Tony’s lap and Tony holding him close, one hand resting on the back of his neck and the other clutching Peter’s feet, rubbing the soles with the pads of his fingers.

They stay that way for what feels like an age; Peter curled into Tony with his forehead pressed against the side of Tony’s jaw and Tony rocking them gently back and forth, murmuring gentle reassurances as the storm slowly passes by.

Eventually, Peter leans back and Tony does the same, tilting himself to the side a little so he can look at Peter. His fingers tighten against the worn material of Peter’s hoodie as he sees the embarrassment and shame on the kid’s face.

''I-''

''If you say you’re sorry I’m gonna ground your ass so bad.''

Peter, mouth still open, frowns at him.

''You can’t ground me.''

''I can.'' Tony disagrees proudly. ''Legal guardian, remember?''

A little bit of a warm light comes back to life in Peter’s eyes, so Tony perseveres.

''Trauma isn’t a linear thing, kid,'' he tells Peter, reaching up to trail a hand through his messy curls. ''There isn’t a single one of us who doesn’t have a dark day every now and then.''

''I know,'' Peter mumbles, looking down. ''And I swear I’m usually fine, things are so much better now and I hardly dream about any of it anymore…it’s just…''

''It’s just.'' Tony finishes for him and Peter nods, shoulders sagging a bit.

''Yeah.''

Peter lets out a shaky breath, the tell-tale signs of tears clinging to the hitch in his voice.

''Sometimes it feels like I’m back there…without you and I…'' he shivers against Tony. ''I hate that feeling, like I’ll never be anything but scared ever again...like I'll never be able to see you again.''

Tony loves Peter so fiercely in that moment, loves him in a way that he knows he’ll never outgrow. This kid, this precious, wonderful kid, with all his shyness and sincerity and wonderfulness; this kid who had fought his way past every single one of Tony’s defences and made a home right in the centre of Tony’s world where he would forever remain; this kid who was a daily reminder of just how perfect life could truly be.

''You believe in the multiverse theory, Pete?'' Tony finds himself asking.

Peter blinks at him. ''Isn’t that a bit of a ridiculous question coming from the guy who cracked the secret for time travel?''

Tony smirks, relieved to hear the sass.

''An achievement I’ll never get to be famous for. How tragic.''

''You’re too famous already,'' Peter quips, rubbing his runny nose as Tony chuckles.

''You’re right there, kiddo.''

He continues to trail his hand through Peter’s hair, slowly straightening the curls before letting them bounce back, smiling as Peter leans into his touch.

''You didn’t answer my question.''

Peter scrunches his nose thoughtfully for a moment. ''I guess? It would make sense, I mean, seeing as how Nebula went and killed her past self and stuff…''

Tony nodded. ''Yeah, let’s not dwell too much on that can of worms.'' He clears his throat. ''Point is, I believe that out there, there’s tons of different times and worlds and universes, all happening at once.''

Peter smiles a little. ''That’s pretty cool.''

''It is,'' Tony agrees. ''I also believe that in all of those times and worlds and universes, there’s a million different versions of you and me running around in them.''

Peter hums happily at the notion. ''Like a version where I’m the billionaire and you’re the teenager?''

Tony smirks. ''In your dreams, kid.''

''One where we’re famous movie stars?''

''Maybe.''

''Or maybe, um, like, one where we’re secret agents?''

''It’s possible.''

''A Star Wars universe?'' Peter asks excitedly.

They go on like this for a little while, storm long forgotten, the suggestions becoming more outlandish until-

''Do you think there’s a universe where we don’t know each other?''

The sorrow in Peter’s tone reflects how Tony feels at the idea of a Tony Stark existing without a Peter Parker in his life.

''I know a lot of things, kiddo,'' Tony says. ''And there’s a lot of things that I don’t know too.''

''Shocker.''

Tony flicks Peter’s ear.

''But what I am absolutely certain of,'' he looks into Peter’s eyes, ''is that there is no time where I don’t have your back.''

He trails his hands soothingly up and down Peter’s spine.

''No world where I don’t want you.''

He cups Peter’s cheek in his hand.

''No universe where I wouldn’t move mountains to keep you safe.''

Peter stares at him, eyes glistening and jaw trembling with the effort of keeping it together.

''Basically, kiddo,'' Tony smiles, feeling tears prickle in his own eyes. ''There is no time, no world, no universe where I don’t love the absolute bones of you.''

There’s a Tony lingering somewhere back in time that would rather jump out of a window than say anything like this, would rather snarl and shout at the world before letting himself even admit to loving someone like this.

But he’ll come around.

Because there’s no way any version of Tony could ever live without _this._

Tony watches, chest tight, as Peter swallows, throat clicking audibly over the light pitter-patter of the rain outside. ''How do you know that?'' he whispers.

''C’mon, Underoos,'' Tony whispers back, giving Peter a squeeze. ''don’t you know by now that I’m always right?''

Tears spill down Peter’s cheeks as he laughs and then he’s burying himself into Tony’s chest, head nestled beneath Tony’s chin and arms winding tightly around the other man in a strong embrace. Tony cradles him close, kisses his temple and moves his head through Peter’s hair, fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck in the slow way that makes the kid boneless with contentment.

''I think this version of us is the best one.''

Tony smiles.

''Me too, Pete. Me too.''

Peter nuzzles into Tony even more in response to his words.

''We’re really okay, aren’t we?''

''Yeah, kid,'' Tony leans back into the cushions with a peaceful sigh. ''We’re okay.''

 

********

 

Yes, if someone had told the Tony of days gone by that one day it would be a life like this; a domestic life, a humble life that he would crave, revel in, go to the ends of the universe and back for, he would have laughed his head off.

It’s not even that humble really, not when compared to those who don’t spend their days hosting a ragtag bunch of aliens, super soldiers, ex-cons, assassins and a spider-baby, but it’s pretty close in Tony’s opinion.

He never knew that life could feel like this, never dreamt that _being alive_ could feel as good as this.

He still tinkers, invents, stays up late pulling apart all the stitching of science and technology in his eccentric and madcap way, just like he always has. But now he takes time to pause, to savour, to let this life, this warm and generous life, give him what he was always looking for.

And boy, does peace look good on Tony Stark.

**Author's Note:**

> If you got this far (over 12000 words holy shit) then thanks so much for reading! Please please leave kudos and your thoughts if you enjoyed :) A couple of my thoughts on the fic are below if you're interested, thanks again! 
> 
> No idea what Quill's grandfather is called but Harry is a nice name, I think. 
> 
> shoutout to 'bitofageek' who left a comment on my previous fic which gave me the idea for Thor reading the stories about him and Loki!
> 
> Of course Tony's kids do ridiculous and dangerous things in the yard and of course he's the kinda dad that encourages it-plus the nickname itsy bitsy for Peter is one of my favourites. 
> 
> Steve's 'wild cackle' is inspired by the wonderful way Chris Evans laughs in real life, it's so funny. Also had to mention the Warriors Three as I think it's an utter crime that they were killed off. 
> 
> I know Peter is a kickass superhero but I love the fact that he's never used his powers for selfish reasons, otherwise he'd totally lay Flash out, so this gave me an excuse for surrogate big brother Harley to come to the rescue!
> 
> Tony calling Peter baby just does things to me. My dad regularly calls my son baby, sweetheart, darling etc and it's such a sweet thing. 
> 
> The Avengers being snuggle buddies is just too precious and I need it in my life, plus the idea of them camping cracks me up. I accept it as canon based on the scene where Tony, Nat and Bruce are lying around together trying to find the stones. Plus Peter calling them the og's instead of the originals is pure teenage sass! 
> 
> The last scene was born out of my watching and crying over the new Spider-Man trailer-I've got a feeling it's going to break us all over again and this is my way of trying to prepare haha. It's probably too soppy but oh well, I think we all need a bit of that right now. Plus based on the latest video on RDJ's instagram, Tony kissing Peter like a dad is now canon in my opinion and nobody will convince me otherwise!!


End file.
